


More

by disarm_d



Series: Brendon/Adam [2]
Category: American Idol RPF, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-04
Updated: 2009-05-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarm_d/pseuds/disarm_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Don't you have experience with this kind of thing?" Adam asks.</i><br/>"Dick?" Brendon asks, blinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More

**Author's Note:**

> I owe [](http://wearemany.livejournal.com/profile)[**wearemany**](http://wearemany.livejournal.com/) and [](http://airgiodslv.livejournal.com/profile)[**airgiodslv**](http://airgiodslv.livejournal.com/) MASSIVE thanks for all their help. [](http://wearemany.livejournal.com/profile)[**wearemany**](http://wearemany.livejournal.com/) helped me plot this out, and while I don't know if I did the original idea justice, I definitely would have never been able to write this without her help and insight. Thanks for talking this through with me, and then for betaing! Also, [](http://airgiodslv.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://airgiodslv.livejournal.com/)**airgiodslv** let me send this to her tiny sections at a time and her encouragement made writing this a million times more fun. This is for and because of them. I ♥ you guys! :D

>   
>  _I am not asking for mercy. I am asking for more._
> 
> From [ "Asking for More"](http://community.livejournal.com/greatpoets/2298833.html) by Sarah Manguso  
> 

 

The next time they meet, Brendon's drunk and stoned, and Adam's hair is gelled up in spikes around the top of his head.  Brendon wants to touch the little points with his palm.

It's another industry thing, and Brendon and Ryan are making an appearance on behalf of Panic.  Promoting a new CD is kind of a bitch, especially because it hasn't been released yet, so Brendon has to answer question after question about what the new sound is going to be like.

"Yeah, pretty much just taking off where we left with the last CD," Brendon says.  The mic isn't that close to his mouth, so he hopes they can still hear him.  Ryan's standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at something that's happening over the reporter's shoulder.  They totally should not have smoked up during the car ride over.   Brendon's eyes are probably bloodshot.  At least it's making it a little more interesting to do press.  He tries to elbow Ryan discreetly.

"We all work on the songs together," Ryan says slowly, slowly, laughing softly to himself before closing his mouth.

"I can't wait to go back on tour," Brendon says.  "Touring is-- making music, it's just so awesome to get to do this."

The reporter looks thoroughly unimpressed, so Brendon smiles brightly and stops talking.

\--

There's an open bar, so Brendon feels like he should be ordering something more awesome than Coronas.  There are still a lot of cameras around; he just sticks with beer.  There are a lot of cameras around, and when Brendon makes eye contact, Adam gives him a closed mouth smile, but doesn't come over.

Brendon's been absentmindedly tracking Adam around the room all night.  It's something to do; Brendon doesn't know many people here.  Adam looks like he has a lot more fun doing press than Brendon does.  Right now, Adam's leaning up against a wall, rubbing the back of his finger carefully along the skin under his eye, like he's making sure his eyeliner hasn't smeared.  Or, hasn't smeared other than in the carefully careless way it's smudged around his eyes.  Brendon's worn eyeliner before: he knows it doesn't go on looking like that.

Brendon slams the rest of the nearly-full bottle of beer, sets it on a cluttered bar, and walks across the room.  Adam isn't talking with anyone right now, so it's easy for Brendon to sidle up near him on the wall.

"It must be nice to be done with Idol," Brendon says.

"Yeah, I guess," Adam says. 

"You like touring?" Brendon asks. 

"It's definitely been a blast.  I'm looking forward to getting to spend time in the studio now."

"We just got out of the studio."

"Yeah?  New CD coming out?"

"End of next month," Brendon says.  "Hopefully."

"Right on."

Brendon runs his fingers through his bangs, tugging them back into place.  "Hey, so what are you doing after this?" Brendon asks.

Adam gives Brendon a long look, his eyes sliding down and then back up again, before grinning.

\--

"Jesus," Brendon groans.  "Yeah, _yeah_ , fucking-- just like that, fuck, your mouth and--"

Adam does this _thing_ with the hand he's got cupped around Brendon's balls, and then he takes Brendon in deep and swallows and pulls up in this long stroke, his mouth making wet sounds and he _sucks_ , and Brendon curses loudly, banging his hand on Adam's shoulder just before coming.

Brendon's knees buckle, and he almost slides down to the floor before he catches himself with a hand to the wall.  He leans back heavily and catches his breath.  They're in a room with a door, somewhere far away from the crowd, which is not entirely ideal as it lacks any flat surfaces, but at least there's some privacy.

While Adam stands, Brendon tucks his dick back into his pants.  Adam straightens and leans forward, his arms out in front of him, palms pressed to the wall on either side of Brendon's head.  Brendon could duck under one of Adam's arms and try to get their positions reversed, but he stays where he is because he's starting to crash and the wall is actually very helpful to the process of remaining upright.

Adam looks down at him, his head tilted to one side.  Brendon bounces up on the balls of his feet, trying to wake himself up again, and reaches for Adam's pants.  He gets the button undone, slides the zipper down, but the pants get stuck when he tries to push them past Adam's hips.

"Those are never coming off," Brendon says, ducking his head and giggling into Adam's shoulder.

"Don't you have experience with this kind of thing?" Adam asks.

"Dick?" Brendon asks, blinking.

Adam's face freezes for a minute before splitting into a grin.  He tips his head back when he laughs.  He bends his arms, lets his body crowd against Brendon, his hips nudging forward.

"I mean tight pants," Adam says.  "But I guess that answers another question."

"If you really want those pants off you will have to lie down so that I can pull from the bottom," Brendon says.  "But I think I can jerk you off just like this."

Adam closes his mouth, though Brendon can still hear him snort, and raises his eyebrows like, _go for it_.

Brendon debates for a moment if he should pull Adam's dick out from under the elastic or through the slit in his underwear, eventually deciding on the latter.  He doesn't feel equipped to battle elastic right now.  He slides his fingers along warm, smooth skin, rubbing his thumb in a quick circle when he reaches the crown, then pulls his hand to his mouth and spits into his palm.

He jacks Adam quickly, his wrist bending at an awkward angle.  His thumb rubs up the base as his fingers wrap around the shaft, which is opposite to the grip he uses on himself.  He gets the head of Adam's dick on the down stroke instead of the base, and it takes his brain a minute to figure out how to work a twist in to the end of each stroke.  He thinks he's doing okay, because his palm slides wetly when he rubs it over the head of Adam's dick.

Brendon doesn't know where to look.  Adam's head is bent, so he can't really see his face.   When he looks down, there are mostly just clothes to look at: Brendon's still dressed, and Adam is too except for his dick.  Adam's hips  arch forward, his torso curving away.  Brendon wishes that Adam's hands were still on the wall.  He starts wondering what is going to happen when Adam comes. He doesn't want there to be a mess all over his clothes; he still has to get back to his suite.  He starts wondering if Adam is ever going to come, so he speeds up the tempo.

Adam's been totally silent this far, so Brendon takes it as a good sign when his breath finally hitches.  When he comes, a little bit of it gets of Brendon's shirt, but mostly he is able to collect it in his palm, shaking the wetness off his hand after Adam's done.  He wipes his hand on the wall behind him, which is only marginally helpful, and dabs at the spot on his shirt with his dry hand.

Adam brings both hands up to rest on either side of his own neck, stretching his back by lifting his shoulders.

"This is super classy," Adam says.  "You know I have a room, right?  That _you_ have a room?"

"Yeah, but then we would have had to call a cab."

"Where are you staying?" Adam asks.  "I'm within walking distance."

"Well, me too," Brendon says.  _But then I would have had to find Zack to tell him I was leaving, and he would have walked back with us, and probably that would have ruined the mood._   He settles on, "I think the people I came with are still here, and we were all going to leave together."

"Whatever," Adam says.

"How long are you in New York for?" Brendon asks.

"Couple of days."

"Maybe I'll see you again," Brendon says, looking up at Adam.  His hand is still sticky and he press his fingers to his palm, makes a fist, relaxes his grip, tightens again.

"Maybe you should go find your people," Adam says.

"Lunch," Brendon says.  "Somewhere within walking distance.  I don't have to be anywhere until after three tomorrow."

Brendon doesn't know what he's doing right now.  It's not like he usually feels compelled to meet up again after hooking up.

"I've got to do a TV spot," Adam says. "So I have to be up at four in the morning."

Brendon stands quietly.  He feels kind of nervous that Adam is going to say no, which is exactly why he's not going to back down.

Finally Adam shakes his head and says, "Yeah, okay, after.  I could meet you somewhere once I was done shooting."

"Great," Brendon says.  "Give me your phone so I can put in my number.  You can text me when you're done." 

He smoothes his hand over his shirt again, says, "See ya," and ducks out of the room, closing the door behind himself, even though he knows that'll probably irritate Adam.

He walks away in search of Zack and Ryan.

\--

*

\--

Brendon spends the walk over to the restaurant wondering if he should get a table and leave his name at the door, or if he should just wait in the entrance, but it doesn't end up mattering because when he gets there Adam is already waiting outside.

He takes off his pair of aviators when he sees Brendon walk up, and says, "Hey."

"How was your thing?" Brendon asks.

"Alright," Adam says before yawning hugely.  "Sorry," he says, touching the back of his hand to his mouth.

Brendon laughs.  "They didn't give you coffee?"

"No," Adam says slowly.  "I'm pretty sure there was coffee.  I don't entirely remember, because of how I was asleep in the makeup chair, but I'm pretty sure somewhere in there was a cup of coffee."

"Early morning press is the worst," Brendon says, holding the door open behind himself for Adam as he walks into the restaurant.  "I usually just stay up all night because it's harder to wake up after a couple of hours' sleep than to stay up entirely."

"I don't know, man," Adam says.  "I've been trying to get all the sleep I can."

"They keep you pretty busy?" Brendon asks.  He says, "For two, please."

"You could say that," Adam says, and then someone comes to lead them to a table.

\--

The soup has creamed cauliflower, leeks, artichoke hearts, walnuts and is, "So good," Brendon says.  "Oh my god, how is this so good?"

He takes another spoonful of soup, a bite of bread, and a sip of his drink and then starts chewing.

Adam shakes his head and laughs.  He reaches out like he's going to touch Brendon's hand, resting on the table, but catches himself before he makes contact.  Brendon's fingers twitch, and he nudges his toe against Adam's under the table

"The food's good," Adam agrees.

"And very much within walking distance," Brendon says.

"Yeah, yeah," Adam says. "Your people let you out unsupervised tonight?"

"We're not really that famous," Brendon says.  "It's not like I go everywhere with security.  Just to events and stuff.  There's probably more of a chance that you'll be recognized than me right now." 

There's more of a chance of Adam being noticed, period.  He's got black smudged around his eyes, makeup that hasn't washed away fully, and is wearing snakeskin boots and shiny grey pants.

"Which is _crazy_ ," Adam says. 

"But kind of awesome," Brendon says.

Adam grins, his thumb running along the handle of his fork.  "But kind of awesome," he agrees.

\--

"Shit," Brendon says.  "Is it seriously quarter to three?  I'm so late right now, Zack's going to kill me."  He looks around the room, trying to find the waiter so that he can wave over the bill.  He and Adam both finished eating ages ago.  Adam's coffee cup has probably been refilled a half dozen times; Brendon reminds himself to leave a big tip.

"You can go.  I'll take care of this," Adam says.

"No, no," Brendon says.  "I've got it."

"Seriously," Adam says.  "If you're late just make a run for it."

"I'm sure if I just go to the front they'll ring me up."  He stands, sliding on his jacket while still scanning the restaurant.

" _Go_ ," Adam says.  "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" he asks, standing at the head of the table.

Adam reaches over and swats at his forearm.  "Yes, I'm sure," he says, rolling his eyes.

Brendon catches Adam's hand with the tips of his fingers before Adam has pulled away entirely.

"Hey, thanks," he says.  "But you know this means I have to take you out for dinner now."

Adam ducks his head, then smiles up at Brendon.  "Well, if that's what it means..."

"I've got your number," Brendon says.  "I'll call you.  I'm going to run now."

"'kay," Adam says. 

Brendon looks back over his shoulder as he heads out the door.  Adam's sitting with his hands stretched out on the table.  Brendon can see one of his legs poking out past the corner of the white table cloth,  like his thighs are spread.  Brendon likes Adam's boots.  They're kind of like a pair that Brendon has but-- _more_ , he doesn't know how exactly.

When he nearly bumps into someone because he isn't looking where he's going, he turns back around.

\--

*

\--

"Oh my god," Brendon shrieks into the phone.  "You totally sound like that guy from American Idol, oh my god, did I seriously just get a hold of Adam? This is the greatest day of my _life_."

"You're hilarious," Adam says dryly, but Brendon can totally hear him crack up.

"Hey, so what are you up to night now?"

"I'm in New York, what the hell do you _think_ I'm up to?" Adam asks.

Brendon makes a, "Mhh," noise into the telephone.

"Shopping," Adam says.  "I'm shopping."

"You want to meet up?" Brendon asks.

\--

"Okay, so I was like, in a bit of a Western phase for a while, but not so much anymore--"

"I don't know," Adam says, sitting on the bench beside Brendon.  "They go up pretty high.  Would you tuck them into your jeans?"

"I did that at the VMAs one year," Brendon says.  "But maybe not so much these days."

"Your pants would hang really funny over top of these," Adam says.  "Why can't you just try the shorter ones?"

"Because the stitching on these is fucking _sweet_ ," Brendon says.

"You own like a million shoes that you never wear, don't you?" Adam asks.

"Kind of," Brendon says.  "I _have_ worn cowboy boots before though."

"Those are awesome boots," Adam says.  "But you'd need to tuck your pants in.  You just have to acknowledge this."

Brendon flexes his calves, rocking his toes from side to side.  The leather's so soft, and already distressed, so they feel amazing, and there's swirly stitching up the side, and he still doesn't know if that's reason enough to spend a couple grand on a pair of boots that he's never going to wear.  Maybe they could change the aesthetic of their stage show again.  He misses the boots that he wore on the Circus tour.

"We could go back to the store with all the sneakers," Adam offers.

"What time is it?" Brendon asks, looking around.  "Do you think it will still be open?  Maybe we should just go to dinner.  Are you going to buy those?" 

"I feel like I've already got a couple of pairs of purple shoes," Adam says.

"They're kind of more grey then purple," Brendon says.

"True.  I have a jacket that would go with these," Adam says.

"I like them," Brendon says.  He rocks his toes again.  "What I really need is a new belt."

"I thought you liked showing off your underwear," Adam says.  "Why else would you be wearing _bright orange_?"

"You know what? I like to keep things interesting for my dick, okay?" Brendon says.  "Don't even start with me."

" _That's_ how you keep things interesting for your dick?" Adam asks, raising both his eyebrows.

Brendon mutters, "Shut up," and elbows Adam.  "Go buy your boots so that I can take you to dinner."

\--

*

\--

"Where are you off to after New York?" Adam asks.

Brendon swallows his sip of wine.  "LA," he says.  "Back to LA.  I moved there last year."

"Oh yeah?" Adam asks.  "I've been living in Hollywood for a while now.  How do you like it?"

"It's been good," Brendon says.  "I moved from Vegas, so it wasn't too far.  It's a different scene though."

"Definitely," Adam says.

"This time 'round we didn't record our CD in a casino," Brendon says.  "Just for one example."

"Ha ha, seriously?"

Brendon nods. 

Someone comes by their table and starts clearing away empty plates.  "Would you like anything else?"

Brendon looks at Adam.   He doesn't really want to leave yet, but he's full and it's getting late.

"I think we're good," Adam says.

"Just the bill," Brendon says.

He pays, and they walk out of the restaurant together.

"Do you want to get a drink or something?" Brendon asks.

Adam grimaces and says, "I _do_ , but I shouldn't.  I'm flying to Orlando tomorrow, and it blows to fly hungover."

"That's why they serve alcohol on planes," Brendon jokes.

"I'm just down this way," Adam says, nodding up the street.  "I don't know if you wanted to--"

"We could just hang out for a bit," Brendon says.

"Yeah, if you wanted to hang out."

\--

Adam kisses fucking _dirty_ , his tongue sliding into Brendon's mouth.  It's late and they've both got the beginnings of stubble, and their cheeks rub together roughly.  Their mouths come together roughly, and Brendon's so turned on his head feels dizzy.  He _wants_ , but he'd rather not take the time to figure out what he wants, he just wants, just wants more.

They make their way over to the bed, and it takes a while to get both of them out of their tight pants, long enough that Brendon's head starts to clear.  Adam pushes him down, stretches out over him, their chests sliding together as he makes his way back up, his thigh pushing in between Brendon's legs.  Brendon's shirt is balled up under his shoulder, and he reaches behind himself, grabs it and throws it off the bed.

"What do you like?" Adam asks.

Brendon shakes his head soundlessly, trying to pull Adam down for another kiss.  He only likes talking in bed when he's actively in the process of achieving orgasm.

Adam ducks his head, but stops before their lips make contact.  He says, "No, seriously."

"Before was good," Brendon says.  "I liked it like before."

"You want me to blow you?"

"Yup," Brendon says tightly.  He turns his head to the side, trying to find a little more air.  Adam's on top of him, and even though he isn't actually putting pressure on Brendon's chest, Brendon feels like he can't breathe.

It's better when Adam moves down, better yet when he puts his mouth on Brendon's dick.  Adam gives really good head.  Brendon's nowhere near as drunk this time and he feels like he's going to come really fast, like he's right on the edge already from the moment that Adam starts sucking him, like it's just a matter of figuring out how to push the rest of the way over.

He leaves his hands on the bed, except when he gets really close and moves his hand to his hip, his fingers digging into his skin like that's going to help him hold back.  He comes _hard_ , his shoulders lifting off the bed as he tries to curl in on himself.  It's intense, but it takes a while before it slides into _too much_ , even though Adam keeps sucking him the whole way through.

Adam touches the back of his hand, and Brendon forces his fingers to loosen, moves his hand away entirely.  Adam stretches out on the bed beside him, holding himself up on one elbow and bending down to kiss Brendon's shoulder.

Brendon covers his face with his open palm, closes his eyes and breathes deeply before pulling his hand away and forcing himself to roll over.  Adam moves with him, lying flat on his back, and Brendon crawls sideways until he's settled in between Adam's legs.

He looks at Adam's cock, which is still hard and lying against his belly, and wonders if he's actually going to do with, but when Adam flexes his hips forward, Brendon bends down and takes Adam's dick into his mouth.

Brendon works into a rhythm pretty quickly, bobbing his head up and down as he holds himself up with both hands flat to the bed on either side of Adam.

"Hey, hey, could you just--" Adam says, reaching down.  Brendon bats his hand away and tries to suck harder, and Adam doesn't say anything else.

Brendon's jaw aches, and he doesn't know how this can possibly be taking so long.  Sucking dick is pretty boring: up and down, up and down.  His tongue hurts down the center.  His mouth is getting kind of phlegm-y from when Adam's dick brushes up against the back of his throat.  There's this loud slurping noise when he tries to increase the suction, which is kind of embarrassing.   Up and down, up and down.

Adam pokes at his shoulder and pokes again and finally Brendon pulls off.  Adam grabs his dick and jerks himself the rest of the way off, coming on his stomach instead of in Brendon's mouth, something that Brendon appreciates.

He opens his mouth wide, moving his jaw from side to side.  He climbs onto his feet and starts gathering up his clothes.  When he turns around again, Adam is still lying on the bed, his palm resting on his chest.

"You've probably got an early flight tomorrow," Brendon says, tilting his head toward the door.

"Sure," Adam says.

Brendon shuffles over to the edge of the bed.  Adam doesn't move away when Brendon bends down to peck him on the lips, but he doesn't kiss back, and he doesn't move his hand off of his chest.

"We're both going to end up in the same place," Brendon says.  "Eventually.  The same-ish place.  You should give me a call when you get back."

"Seriously?" Adam asks, sounding dubious.

"Yeah," Brendon says.  "I've still got to buy a new belt sometime."

"You are one strange little dude," Adam says.  He's naked and sprawled across the sheets and he looks _good_.  Brendon wipes his damp palm across his thigh.

"So I'll talk to you later?" Brendon asks.

Adam shakes his head, but he says, "Yeah, I'll call you when I get back."

"Sweet," Brendon says and then lets himself out.

\--

Ryan's sitting in the main room of their suite, watching late night TV.

"Late night," Ryan says when Brendon walks through the door.

"I walked back here," Brendon says, "so that took a little while."

"What's her name?" Ryan asks as Brendon toes off his shoes and starts making his way toward the bathroom.

"None of your business, Ross," Brendon calls over his shoulder.  He turns the shower on hot and starts stripping off his clothes.  There's a patch of raw skin at the base of his throat, Brendon notices as he looks at himself in the mirror.  He touches his fingers to the redness, then steps into the shower.

He dries off and wraps himself up in one of the hotel's white terrycloth towels before walking out of the bathroom.

"Zack said that he's coming to get us at noon for breakfast," Ryan says.  "He wants to see how many bagels he can eat while we're in New York."

"Okay," Brendon says.  "Wake me up when you guys are ready to go, I'm going to crash now."

\--

*

\--

"Hey buddy," Shane calls when Brendon walks into the house.  "How was your trip?"

"Pretty good," Brendon says.  "Except during the parts where we had to give interviews."

Shane laughs.  "I made chicken last night and there are leftovers in the fridge."

"'kay, sweet," Brendon says.  "We didn't get a meal on the plane."

Dylan comes walking down the hall. 

"Hey baby," Brendon says, crouching down to pet her.  "Did you miss me?  Where's Bogart?  Were you keeping him company?"  He calls to Shane, "Have the dogs already had their treats today?"

"Yeah," Shane says. "But you could give them like half each if you wanted to.  I took them on a long walk."

"C'mon," Brendon says, standing up.  "C'mon, I've got food for you.  C'mon.  Bogart!"

\--

*

\--

Brendon doesn't actually know when Adam's getting back, so he's not surprised when Adam calls, only because he didn't know what he should expect.

"You're back," Brendon says.

"I'm back."

"For how long?"

"A little while," Adam says. "I'm not exactly sure about my schedule right now.  Long enough to help you pick out a belt, anyway."

"Just what I was hoping to hear," Brendon says.  "When and where do you want to meet?"

\--

"Shane, I'm going out tonight," Brendon calls.  He's standing in the hallway, fixing his hair in the mirror.  He cut himself a little when he was shaving, but he doesn't think it shows too badly.

"Anything interesting happening?" Shane asks.

"Nah," Brendon says. "I'm just seeing a friend."

"It's your turn to let the dogs out tomorrow morning.  I think I'm going to be sleeping over at Regan's tonight."

"Sure," Brendon says.  "I'll leave my door open so I can hear when they want to go out."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Shane says.

\--

Brendon lifts the hem of his shirt, looking at the belt in the mirror.

"Maybe it's a little big," he says.

"You're just small," Adam says. 

In the mirror, Brendon watches Adam walk up behind him.

"I think it looks good," Adam says, standing beside and behind Brendon.  "It's got a pretty rad buckle."

Brendon taps his fingers on the metal and says, "Yeah."  The store is open extended hours because it's Wednesday night, and he and Adam are the only ones at this end of the store.  Adam takes a step closer, until he's standing right behind Brendon.  He pauses for a moment, and Brendon shuffles backward half a step.

"It works with these jeans," Adam says, running his fingers over one of Brendon's belt loops.  Brendon can't actually feel the touch, but when Adam cups Brendon's hips, one hand on each side, Brendon can feel that. 

Adam's a head taller than Brendon, and Brendon can feel him pressed all the way up his back.  Adam spreads his fingers so that his first finger slides off the waistband of Brendon's jeans and onto bare skin, then moves his whole hand, his palm rubbing across Brendon's belly.  He drags his hand upward and Brendon's shirt, caught on Adam's wrist, lifts as well.  He leaves that hand resting on Brendon's belly, and brings the other one down to slide over the metal buckle.

"I like the way it joins with the leather," Adam says, moving his fingers in demonstration.

Brendon's breath is caught him his chest, so he nods his head instead of speaking, just a little movement, but he can feel his hair being ruffled by Adam's chest.  His body feels like it wants to lean back and let Adam hold him up, like he should arch his hips forward or maybe rub his ass back, but they're in the middle of the store.  Brendon stays firmly on his feet.

"So, I guess I'll buy it then," Brendon says, his voice coming out low and tight.

Adam flexes his fingers, his short nails pressing into Brendon's skin, before saying, "Yeah," and stepping away entirely.

Brendon has trouble getting the belt undone so that he can take it up to the counter to pay. 

He waits for the girl to ring it up, glances over at Adam, who's standing by the door to the shop.  Adam's obviously watching him, and he doesn't look away when Brendon turns his head.

He finishes paying and walks over to Adam.

"How far away is your place?" Adam asks as they walk down the street.

"It's not, I mean, but I've got a roommate," Brendon says.  "So."

"I don't," Adam says.

"Awesome, yeah, so, we should, oh, hey, look."  Brendon points up ahead.  "There's a movie theatre.  Do you want to see what's playing?"

"You want to go watch a _movie_?" Adam asks.

"It's still pretty early," Brendon says.  "And then we can, and then we could go back to your place."

Adam gives him an incredulous look.

"We don't have to," Brendon says.  "Just since we're right here."

"Uh, yeah, whatever," Adam says.  "Lead the way."

\--

It's after one when they finally get out of the theatre, and the movie was shit so Brendon's half asleep.  He blinks at the brightness of the lights as they walk through the lobby.

He rubs his cheek and watches Adam move his bangs to the side with a careful sweep of his fingers.

"And on that note, I think we should call it a night," Adam says.

Brendon nods, and bites the inside of his cheek.

Adam adjusts the collar of his jacket, rolls his shoulders, and says goodbye.  Brendon stands at the exit of the theatre for a moment, watching Adam walk down the street, before he turns in the opposite direction and heads back to his car.

Shane's not going to be home tonight, and Brendon's tired but not tired enough to go back to his empty house.  He heads for Ryan's instead, not bothering to call first and check if Ryan's there.  Even if Ryan's out, Eric might be home, and even if Eric isn't home, at least Brendon will have killed some time in the drive.

The lights are on in the house.  He parks the car in their driveway and makes his way up to the front door.  No one answers, so he walks around back instead.

Ryan and Eric are sitting at opposite ends of the couch, the outdoor lights glowing softly in a line around the deck.  There's a bong on the ground in front of them and Brendon says, "You guys know how to have a good time."

"Hey," Eric says, lifting his hand to slap Brendon's in  hello.

"What's up?" Ryan asks.

"Nothing much.  Just thought I'd drop by.  Were you thinking of starting another bowl?" Brendon asks, settling on the couch in between them.

"Did you and Shane run out of weed?" Ryan asks.

"What a thing to say," Brendon protests.  "Me and Shane run out of weed.  Not likely."

Ryan laughs and says, "Well, if you insist, I guess we could pack another."

\--

They finish the bowl and Ryan and Eric head into the house and off to bed.

"I'm just going to crash here for a bit," Brendon says.  "So that I can drive home."

"You want to come inside?" Ryan offers.  "There's a couch, or the spare bedroom if you feel up to looking for clean sheets.  Or just call a cab."

"Nah, I'm good," Brendon says.  "You made the backyard all vibey for a reason."

"I'll leave the door unlocked," Ryan says.  "If you change your mind."

Brendon stretches out on the couch.  It's make of outdoor-safe material and squeaks a little when he shifts his weight.  He lets his hand hang off the edge until his fingers brush against rock, drags the tips of his fingers in a line, feeling grit collect under his nails.

It's the middle of night, but the lights are still on so he can see.  He reaches for his cellphone and sets his alarm for five a.m. so that he won't accidentally sleep too long and not be there to let the dogs out, then crosses his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.

\--

The roads are quiet and the sun has just finished rising when Brendon gets into his car to drive back home.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket when he's stopped at a red light, texts Adam: _Can we do last nite over? ;)_

Adam doesn't text back.  Of course he doesn't; he'll still be asleep.  Brendon sets his phone into the drink holder and tries to focus on the road.

\--

Brendon wakes up sometime after four, grunts hello who Shane, who's sitting in the kitchen, and stumbles into the shower.

When he walks back into his bedroom, his phone buzzes at him.  _What part of lastnite do u want to try again?_ from Adam.

Brendon sends back, _I just want to c you again.. no bad movies this time?? ;)_

Brendon throws his towel on the floor and reaches for the closest pair of jeans.  He's just doing up the button when Adam texts back, _I'm going out dancing tonite._   Then a minute later, _U can come if u want._.

\--

*

\--

The club is _packed_ but somehow Adam walks in and manages to find them a booth right away.  He's meeting up with friends later, but Brendon said he didn't know the place that Adam was talking about, so the two of them met earlier and showed up together.  Adam's wearing black pants and a skin tight, slightly see-through shirt.  He didn't say anything about the way that Brendon's dressed: jeans, a t-shirt, and jacket, but even Adam's dressed a little conservatively compared to most of the other people in the club.   Brendon probably stands out, and not in a good way.

"I'm going to go get us drinks," Brendon says.  He walks over to the bar and tries to figure out what the fuck he should order when the bartender clinks his tongue ring at Brendon and asks, "What'll you have, honey?"

Brendon doesn't know what he should ask for, doesn't actually know what Adam drinks.  "Two rum and Cokes, please," Brendon says.  "No, wait, Long Island Iced Teas, two of those.  And a couple shots of rum."

The bartender sets two shot glasses down on the bar and pours the rum with a quick flick of his wrist.  Brendon downs both of them while he waits for the other drinks to be made.

\--

Adam's friends are loud and they all know each other and everyone else as well, it seems like.  Brendon chews on the ice cubes in his otherwise empty glass and laughs along with their jokes.

"I'm going to get another," Brendon tells Adam.  It's too loud in the club to whisper, but he leans in so that he doesn't have to shout.  "Do you want something different this time?"

"No, that was good," Adam says.  "Thanks."

There's a wait to get to the bar, and when Brendon finally gets there, he orders the same, knocking back both shots in quick succession.  Three people squeeze his ass while he walks back to the table, and he nearly spills both of the drinks.

"He's _sweet_ ," one of Adam's friends says when Brendon passes Adam the drink.

"Don't even start," Adam says, holding up one of his hands.  His friend opens his mouth and Adam repeats, "No.  No," each time until the friend ducks his head and laughs.  Adam reaches over and rubs the guy's shoulder, grins and says, "Thank you."

Brendon takes a sip of his drink, leaves the straw in his mouth afterwards and chews on the end of it.

He finishes his drink and heads back to the bar.

\--

"You can't possibly be this much of a lightweight," Adam says.  They're on the dance floor, but Brendon's not doing his best dancing right now.  He's all soft-limbed and floaty, and really he'd rather dance _with_ Adam, but he's embarrassed with all of Adam's friends watching.

"I might have also had a couple of shots," Brendon says.

Adam's eyebrows knit together.

"No, trust me, I'm better in clubs when I'm drunk," Brendon says.

"You're kind of ridiculous," Adam says.  "And it's not always in a good way."

"I know," Brendon says.  He sounds unhappy, but he doesn't actually feel that bad.  His legs feel like they're filled with white noise.

He reaches forward and tucks his finger through Adam's belt loop, just to see what Adam does.

Adam looks down, one corner of his mouth quirked up.  He reaches for Brendon's wrist, but not to pull him away like Brendon was first worried he'd do.  Instead, he runs his hand up the length of Brendon's arm, settling finally on his shoulder.

"C'mon," he says.  "Dance it off."

\--

Brendon doesn't know if dancing actually helps him sober up-- even though all the sweating he's doing probably helps for something-- but Adam's a good dancer, and once Brendon stops worrying about stepping on Adam's toes or all of the other dumb shit that bounces around in his head, he actually has a really good time.

Someone comes over to tell Adam that they're going to head somewhere else, and Adam says, "Alright, call me tomorrow or something," and stays with Brendon on the dance floor.

Brendon licks his lips then lifts his head.  Adam's got one arm wrapped around Brendon's waist, his fingers resting low on Brendon's back.  Brendon touches his palm to  Adam's chest, thinks about bouncing up on his toes to reach Adam's mouth for a kiss, but doesn't.

"How are you doing?" Adam asks.

"Good," Brendon says, nodding his head.

"Do you maybe want to go back to my place now?"

"Yeah," Brendon says.

"At the end of this song," Adam says, and they start to dance again.

\--

Brendon undresses quickly, then helps Adam take off his clothes, sliding Adam's socks over the sharp curve of his ankle bone while Adam pulls his shirt over his head.  Adam undoes his pants and Brendon tugs them down, pushing them off the side of the bed.  Adam reaches for him, and Brendon crawls up to the head of the bed.

He kisses Adam.  "Do you have lube?" he asks.  Then, "We could do that tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we could do that," Adam says, grinning.  He rolls to the edge of the bed and slides open the drawer of his bedside table, pulls out a bottle of lube, which he tosses behind himself onto the mattress, then roots around for a condom.

He settles back on the bed, looking around for the bottle, and seems surprised when he realizes that it's in Brendon's hand.  Brendon flicks open the cap with his thumb.  He raises his eyebrow, looking at Adam before pouring any into his hand.

"Ah," Adam says.  "I mean, yeah, sure."

"Awesome," Brendon says.  He shuffles over, kneeling between Adam's legs.  He hesitates before tipping the bottle and asks, "Should I do this?"

"...Yes?" Adam says, sounding confusing.  "As opposed to what?"

"If you wanted to-- yourself."

"Are you asking me to finger myself?" Adam asks.

"No," says Brendon quickly.  "Just checking."  He switches the bottle into his other hand and drizzles lube over the first two fingers of his right hand.  He reaches down, his fingers sliding around before he finds the pucker of Adam's asshole.    He pushes one finger inside, pulls his hand back and replaces one with two. 

Adam clenches tightly around him, and Brendon freezes, waiting until he can feel Adam start to relax before he pushes forward again.  He pushes his fingers in and out in long strokes, wiggling his hand around  a little to encourage Adam to loosen up.

When he pulls his hand away, Adam lifts his head and looks up at him.  While Brendon grabs for the condom, Adam reaches down and slides his fingers inside, holding them still as far as Brendon can tell.  He can see the tendons on the back of Adam's hand flexing, but there doesn't seem to be any other movement.

"I guess that's alright," Adam says after a long minute that Brendon spends sitting back on his heels and waiting.  He looks at Brendon again, but Brendon's not sure what he's supposed to say, so he just shuffles forward on his knees.

He tries to line up his dick but it's not a good angle, and he doesn't know what he should do to make it better.

"I'm going to roll over," Adam says after an awkward moment of silence.

Brendon nods and moves backward so that there's room for Adam to turn around.  He settles on his hands and knees.  Brendon strokes his dick a couple of times then tries again.

It feels like it takes forever for him to get all the way inside.  Adam's whole body is frozen and Brendon doesn't know if he should go slower or what.  He doesn't know if he _can_ go any slower; it already feels like he's hardly moving at all.

Eventually he gets all the way inside and it gets easier to move.  It's better after that, better when he can actually move his hips.  He wonders if he should reach around and also try to jerk Adam off, but there's enough for him to focus on as it is.  Adam finally moves one hand down, falling to his other forearm.  Brendon watches his back, freckles clustering in a thick strip along the top of his shoulders and slowly fading out further down his back.

Both of them are silent, so the only noises in the room are the wet sounds of their bodies slapping together and the low creaks when the mattress shifts.  Brendon doesn't feel any urgency right now, but he almost wishes he did because he'd like to come soon.  A little bead of sweat trickles down the center of his back.  He's hardly touching his hands to Adam's hips, but still his palms slide around.

He flops onto the bed soon after coming, and Adam rolls over, taking his dick into hand again.  Brendon wonders if he should blow him or something.  He's tired, though.  From dancing and from coming and from drinking too much.  He lies on his side, facing Adam, thinks that maybe he could at least help jerk him off, but ends up passing out before he actually sees Adam come.

\--

Brendon wakes and he doesn't know where he is.  He sits quickly, looking around the room.  His stomach lurches.

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," Adam groans, rolling away from Brendon and hunching in on himself.

"Sorry," Brendon whispers.  Should he lie back down?  Should he leave?  What time is it? 

He sits frozen on the bed and after a minute Adam rolls over onto his back.

"Is this why you don't stay the night?" Adam asks.  "You have some kind of deficiency that doesn't allow you to let other people sleep?  Do you even realize how early it is?"

"I'm not wearing a watch," Brendon says.

"You're a disaster," Adam says.  "And you fucking passed out, drooling on my shoulder last night, so I couldn't get out of bed to wash off my makeup and now _I_ look like a disaster, and now you're not even letting me sleep in."

"You look pretty hot," Brendon says, honestly.  Adam's hair is all messy and his eye makeup is smeared and his face looks cranky, but it somehow all adds together well.

"Who _are_ you?" Adam asks. "Seriously. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do with you.  And how fucking drunk _were_ you last night?"

"Not _that_ drunk," Brendon says.  "I'm sorry I crashed so hard, I dunno why that happened."

"And before you crashed--?"

"What about that?"

"Have you done this before?" Adam asks.

"What, anal? Of course I've--"

"With a guy," says Adam.

"Have I had sex with a guy?"

"Brendon," Adam says.  "Before last night, how many times have you put your dick into another dude's ass. Literally."

"Okay, literally I haven't before.  With a guy.  But it's just the same as with--"

"It's not the same," Adam interrupts.

"What?" Brendon asks.  "Sure it is.  I  mean, in terms of what you need to--"

"No," Adam says.

"Well, _basically_ \--"

"No," Adam says.

Brendon starts to say something, but when Adam give him a look, he closes his mouth.

"Have you even fingered _yourself_ before?"

"Um, that's not really--  I mean, yeah, but it's not really my thing," Brendon says. 

Adam stares at him.

"I'll do better next time?" Brendon offers.

"Do you not bottom or something?"

"What?  Do I-- what? Yeah, of course, what do you-- what?"  Brendon scratches at the corner of his mouth.  "That's just not usually how I-- do it."

"How about this," Adam says.  "You stick your fingers up your ass, and we'll talk again once you've figured out that _guys have prostates_."

Brendon swallows.

Adam sighs.  "Look, I'm sorry.  I'm bitchy in the mornings, just ignore me."

"Was it really bad?" Brendon asks.

"Have you really never fucked a guy before?" Adam asks.

Brendon shakes his head.

"At some point in time, did it occur to you that maybe that was a conversation we should be having?"

"Ah," Brendon says.  "I don't know.  No. I guess not."

"It was a conversation we should have had," Adam says.  "I'm telling you this."

"Okay," Brendon says.  He wishes that Adam would roll over so that he could get out of bed and find his clothes.  He doesn't want to pull the sheet away while Adam is looking at him.

Instead, Adam touches his hand to Brendon's elbow before patting the bed.

Brendon lies back down, his movements stiff and awkward.  Adam scoots up beside him, resting his head beside Brendon's on the pillow.

"How old were you when you had sex with a guy for the first time?" Adam asks.

"Nineteen," Brendon says.

"And you were?"

"On tour."

"And he was?"

"Someone I met after a show."

"And?"

"And he blew me and then I never saw him again, I don't know," Brendon says.  "Lather, rinse, and repeat."

"Hey, whatever," Adam says, moving his hand to rest his palm across Brendon's chest.  "Hooking up can be awesome."  He strokes his thumb up and down softly.  "That's not really what I'm looking for right now though."

Brendon holds his breath.  He could tell Adam, _Fair enough_ , slide out of bed and catch a cab back home.  Adam's giving him an easy out.  If he ran into Adam at an event again, he could probably even pretend that there weren't any hard feelings between them.

But he stays where he is, covers Adam's hand with his own.  Says, "I know."  Says, "Me neither."

"Does that mean we can go back to sleep now?" Adam asks.  "Or is your deficiency more of a chronic condition?"

Brendon turns his head, resting his cheek on the pillow.  His and Adam's faces are only inches apart.  This close, he can only focus on one of Adam's eyes at a time.  He probably looks weird and cross-eyed, but Adam smiles, lifts his hand from underneath Brendon's and presses it to Brendon's neck instead, his fingers just brushing the hair at the base of Brendon's skull.

"Okay," Adam says.  "I'll make you breakfast."

They're both still naked.  Adam pulls back the sheets and walks over to his closet.  He pulls out a couple pairs of pants, tossing one over to Brendon. They're soft and stretchy and way too big for Brendon, even after he rolls up the waistband a few times.  They're all light and floaty around his legs when he walks behind Adam out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

"Is an omelet okay?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," Brendon says.  He hops up onto the counter while Adam roots around through the fridge.  "Oh, actually," he says, jumping back down.  "I'd better call my roommate.  I'll be right back."

He heads for the bedroom, fishing his phone out of his jeans, still lying discarded on the floor.

"Hey," Brendon says when Shane picks up.  "You're home, right?"

"Yeah," Shane says.  "But you're not."

"I just wanted to make sure that you were there to let the dogs out," Brendon says.  "I'll probably be back in an hour or two."

"Dude, what the hell?" Shane asks.  "Did you _stay the night_?"

"Umm, yeah," Brendon says.

"What, did she drug you or something?"

"Ha. Ha," Brendon says.  "Okay, I"ll talk to you later."

When he walks back into the kitchen, Adam turns and asks him, "Is your roommate your _roommate_ , or --"

"He's my roommate," Brendon says.  "I'm not sure what inflection I should put there.  He's also technically my personal assistant sometimes, and he films us a lot when we're on tour."

Adam nods, and stirs the little pieces of green pepper he's got sizzling in the frying pan.

"He's straight," Brendon says.  "Pretty much-- I mean, I think -- all of my friends are straight."  He looks over Adam's shoulder.  "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Nope," Adam says.  He sets the wooden spoon down on the counter and reaches for Brendon, his hands coming to rest low on Brendon's waist.  "These aren't staying up very well," he says, fingering the waistband of the pants Brendon is wearing.

"No," Brendon agrees.

Adam looks at him, and Brendon can feel a flush start to spread down his chest.  Or maybe it's not a flush, maybe he just feels warm.  He leaves his arms hanging down at his sides and lets Adam look at him, lets Adam slide gentle fingers along his torso, mapping out the line of his belly, the curve of his hipbone, the stretch of skin high up on his chest, until Brendon can feel the prickle of goosebumps rising.  His nipples harden, and Adam slides his palms down, circles his thumbs, featherlight, and Brendon drops his head forward.

He blinks, shakes himself a little, when Adam pulls away and says, "The food's going to burn.  Stop being so distracting."  The pants are stretched tightly around the line of his erection, and Adam can see everything.  Brendon can't even try to tuck himself up because the pants are so loose that they'll probably just slide right down.

Instead, he shuffles over, hopping up onto the counter, hunching in on himself even though that probably doesn't hide much.

Adam cracks four eggs into a glass bowl and whisks them with a fork.  He's hard too, Brendon can see.  He pours the eggs into a skillet, adjusts the heat of the stove, and then walks over to Brendon.  He touches his fingers to the inside of Brendon's knees and Brendon opens, making room for Adam to take another step closer.

Adam cups his hands low on Brendon's ribcage, and even though he's sitting on the counter, Brendon still has to tilt his head back before he's able to reach Adam's mouth.  They both exhale sharply at the first press of their lips together, Brendon's fingers scrambling for purchase on Adam's shoulder.  Adam's hands are firm around Brendon's middle, and he feels like Adam is holding him up.

Adam pushes his tongue into Brendon's mouth, this blunt pressure sliding across Brendon's tongue that makes him want to set his fingernails into Adam's shoulder.  He holds on tightly, his hips twitching forward even though he can't really move like this. 

It takes him a minute to remember to open his eyes again after Adam pulls away.  Adam touches his finger to the edge of Brendon's bottom lip, and Brendon lifts his own hand without thinking, mimicking the gesture.

"I'm going to finish making breakfast now," Adam says, curling his hand into a loose fist and sliding his knuckles down Brendon's sternum.

Brendon licks his lips, says, "Okay," then, belatedly, "Good idea."  He reaches down and curls his hands around the edge of the counter, flexes his legs so that his heels rub up and down the surface of the wood.

"What would you like to drink?" Adam asks, lifting glasses out of the cupboard on the other side of the stove.

"Juice," Brendon says.  "If you have any."  He lowers himself off of the counter, reaching out his hands.  "I can take those over to the table."  Adam passes him the glasses, then turns to grab juice out of the fridge.

He walks back over and asks, "Plates?"

Adam points at one of the cupboards.  Brendon's fingers shake as he reaches into the cupboard.  He can't stop thinking about how his erection bobs in front of him when he walks.

He carries plates over to the table, and Adam follows him, holding the skillet.  He cuts the omelet down the center with the spatula, then slides a half onto each plate.  He walks back into the kitchen with the skillet, and comes back carrying forks.

"Thanks," Brendon says when Adam passes him one, then, "This is really good," after taking a bite.

"Awesome," Adam says. 

They're sitting kitty corner from each other at the table.  Brendon straightens his leg, covers Adam's foot with his own.  He grins when Adam looks up at him, doesn't move his foot away.

They're nearly done eating when the phone rings.

Adam winces, and says, "Shit, I totally forgot that I'd made plans for brunch."  Brendon lifts his foot and Adam stands, walking over to the phone.

"Hey," Adam says.  "Umm.  Mh hm.  What time were you thinking?  Yeah. What time is it now?  Do you want to do dinner instead?  Hm, yeah, no, yeah, yeah, it's okay.  Yeah, it's okay.  Uh huh.  Yeah, okay, I'll see you then." He hangs up the phone.

"My friend's moving, and I've really got to see him before he goes," Adam says.

"That's fine," Brendon says.  "What time do you have to leave at?"

"Pretty soon," Adam says apologetically.  "You can stay here and shower or whatever if you want."

"I'm good," Brendon says, shaking his head.  He stands and takes his plate to the kitchen, setting it in the sink.

"Just leave it," Adam says.  "I'll load the dishwasher later."

Adam comes into the bedroom before Brendon has finished dressing, leaning against the door frame.  Brendon slides the pants off and drapes them over the edge of the bed before reaching for his pants.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Adam watching him.  He has to hold his erection up before he's able to convince the button on his jeans to close, and even then it takes some wiggling.

He pulls the hem of his t-shirt down and looks over at Adam.

"Come here," Adam says.

Brendon walks across the room and stops in front of Adam.

"Did you call a cab?" Adam asks.  Brendon nods.

Adam cups Brendon's head in both hands, smoothing his fingers through his hair.  He drags his hands down to rest on Brendon's shoulders and Brendon flattens one of his palms to Adam's belly.

"I'll call you later," Adam says.  He walks Brendon to the door and kisses him goodbye, slow and thorough and eventually Brendon has to pull away.  He ducks his head, running his fingers through his bangs, and tries to catch his breath.  Says, "Have fun with your friend," and steps outside.

He slides into the cab, gives his address, and settles back into the seat, tipping his head backwards and closing his eyes.  He feels strung out, a little from not sleeping and a little from drinking too much and a little from-- he doesn't even know.  He buttons up his jacket and slides his hands in between his thighs, trying to warm his fingers.  It's not that cold in the cab; he just feels worn out.  He feels like he's still waiting for something.  He wonders if Adam has left the house yet.

It's brighter than Brendon expects it to be, even though it's already late into the morning.  Maybe he can take a nap when he gets home.

\--

"Spencer called," Shane tells him when he gets home.

"I had my phone on me," Brendon says.

"He was trying to reach us _both_ ," Shane informs him.

Brendon laughs.  "What did Spencer say?  Does he know when Jon's going to fly in?"

"Not until next week, I don't think," Shane says.  "Spencer's staying over at Ryan's for the weekend, and he said that we should come over for a movie night."

"Cool," Brendon says.  "Are you going to bring Regan?"

"I think he rented _Wayne's World_ ," Shane says.  "So, I don't know if she'll want to come.  Why, is there someone you want to bring?"

"I'm going to take a nap," Brendon says.  "Are we going to try and get groceries this afternoon?"

"Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea," Shane says.

"'kay, wake me up when you want to leave."

\--

*

\--

"How fucking sweet would it be to cover Bohemian Rhapsody?" Spencer asks after the scene finishes.

"That's be pretty fucking sweet," Shane says.

"Pretty fucking _hard_ ," Brendon says, and then at the same time Shane and Spencer yell, "That's what she said!" and lean over to high five each other.

Brendon's phone buzzes, and he rolls off the couch, pulling it out of his pocket.

"I'll be right back," he says.  He ducks out of the room and accepts the call.   "Hey."

"Hey you," Adam says.  "How's it going?"

"Good," Brendon says.  "Just debating the merits of covering Bohemian Rhapsody."

"I sang that for one of my auditions for Idol," Adam says.

"Seriously?" Brendon asks.  "So _we_ definitely shouldn't attempt to cover it then.  How was your friend?"

"Good," Adam says.  "I wasn't really ready to eat a second meal though.  What are your plans for the rest of the night?"

"I think we're just hanging out," Brendon says.  "One of my bandmates came in from Vegas for the weekend."

"So are you going to be hanging out with them for a while?" Adam asks. 

"Yeah, I think so," Brendon says.

"How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be good."

"Awesome," Adam says.  "There're a bunch of places close to my place, so do you want to just come over there and then decide where we want to go?"

"Yeah," Brendon says.  "That sounds good.  What time should I head over?"

After the call ends, Brendon walks back into Ryan's rec room.

"So," Spencer says.

"Who was that?" asks Ryan.

"Brendon spent the _night_ ," Shane tells them.  "He didn't get back until nearly noon."

"Seriously?" Spencer asks. " _And_ he gave her his phone number?"

"Shut up and play the movie," Brendon says.

\--

*

\--

\--

*

\--

"I drove over," Brendon says when Adam answers the door. "So I don't know if your plans involved alcohol, or--"

"No specific plans," Adam says. "But you can always just stay the night."

"Even now that you've found out about my sleep-interrupting ways?" Brendon asks.

He meant it as a joke, and thinks that Adam is going to laugh, but instead Adam gives him a long look and says, "I guess we'll just have to tire you out first."

Brendon clears his throat and says, "Should I take off my shoes?"

"Yeah," Adam says. "Come in for a while."

Adam ducks down and pecks Brendon on the mouth after he's finished toeing off his sneakers, but Brendon leaves his head tilted backward. Adam kisses him again. Brendon's still holding his car keys and they jingle in his hand when he reaches for Adam.

"You can set those over there," Adam says, nodding at the little table set up beside the front door. 

Brendon pulls back enough to toss them over. They land near the edge, but don't fall onto the floor, so Brendon turns back to Adam, running both hands up his chest. Adam's t-shirt feels warm and soft under Brendon's palms. He steadies himself by holding on to Adam's shoulders and rises up on his toes so that he can reach Adam's mouth better. He still feels off balance, but when Adam's hands come around his waist, that helps.

"There are places we could be that are more awesome than my foyer," Adam says. "Like my bedroom, for example."

"That's," Brendon says, and then bites back a choked sound when Adam drops his head and catches Brendon's earlobe between his teeth. Brendon feels this surge go straight down to his dick, already hard in his pants. "A good idea," he finally finishes breathlessly. 

He lifts his hand to cup the back of Adam's neck, holding him in place. Adam kisses down the side of Brendon's neck, and moves his arm, dragging the heel of his hand over Brendon's erection. Brendon tightens his grip on Adam's neck.

Adam lifts his head, kisses Brendon hard on the mouth, and takes a slow step back. Brendon's hands fall away, and Adam grabs one of them, lacing their fingers together and tugging Brendon forward, walking them down the hallway.

They step into Adam's bedroom, but Adam stops instead of climbing on the bed. He keeps hold of Brendon's hand and says, "Hold up," stepping backwards until his back is pressed against the wall, pulling Brendon with him. "You still haven't told me what you're into."

Brendon shrugs, tries to shake his hand free but Adam doesn't let go.

"We can do whatever," Brendon says.

"Whatever," Adam repeats. "Brendon, you said the other day that you didn't bottom, we can't do _whatever_."

"No, we can do that," Brendon says. "It's not a big deal."

"I thought you said--"

"It's not a big deal to me," Brendon repeats. "You're the one who keeps bringing it up."

Adam gives him a weird look.

"No, seriously," Brendon says. "We can do that. Right now. Let's just-- yeah, go for it." Brendon feels like his heart is pounding in his throat, and he hopes that Adam doesn't notice the way it makes his voice sound strange.

"I don't even think I _want_ to know the shit that goes through your head," Adam says, shaking his head. He looks at Brendon and says seriously, "I'm not saying I want to fuck you."

"Okay," Brendon says, feeling his breath come in a little easier.

Adam rubs his hand down Brendon's arm, and Brendon leans in again instead of trying to edge backwards. 

"How about this," Adam says. "I'd really like it if you sucked me off." He touches his thumb to the corner of Brendon's mouth, then drags his fingers across Brendon's cheek, tucking a little wisp of hair behind Brendon's ear.

"Okay," Brendon says. His tongue feels thick in his mouth already.

"And then I'll get you off however you want," Adam says.

Brendon nods even as he starts dropping to his knees.

"You don't have to--" Adam says, going breathless when Brendon rubs his hand over Adam's dick. "There's the bed right there."

Brendon ignores him, focusing on unzipping Adam's pants and easing them down his hips.

He has to hold onto the base of Adam's dick to guide it into his mouth, his other hand resting on his own thigh. When he starts working his mouth, he moves his hand to Adam's leg instead, touching just above where Adam's pants are bunched around his thighs.

Brendon starts bobbing up and down, up and down. He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose, only opening them again when he feels a faint touch against the side of his head.

"Sorry," Adam says, pulling his hand away. 

Brendon looks up. It's hard to see at this angle, and his mouth goes still as he tries to see Adam's face.

"Sorry, no, don't stop," Adam says. "I just have trouble keeping my hands to myself."

Brendon pulls back, licking his lips. He says, "It's okay," and guides Adam's dick back into his mouth. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Adam set his hand onto his stomach. His nails are painted black and curled just above his hip bone. Brendon pulls off again.

"I mean, it's okay," Brendon says. "You don't have to keep your hands to yourself."

"The other time," Adam says. "It seemed like you weren't into it."

Brendon doesn't say anything. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth, sucking on the head of Adam's dick, and eventually he feels another light touch to the back of his head. He tilts his head back a little, pushing into it, and Adam's fingers slide through his hair.

He circles his tongue in sloppy circles around the head, around and around until Adam makes a sharp, high noise and pushes at the back of Brendon's head. Brendon slides further down Adam's dick, and Adam strokes his hand through Brendon's hair, his hips twitching forward.

Brendon pulls back, starts tonguing the head again, moving down only when Adam's fingers start to push. It's just a light pressure to his head that eases up after Brendon's taken most of Adam's dick back into his mouth. 

Brendon keeps going down, and Adam says softly, "Yeah," his fingers digging in a little. He doesn't push hard, but something in having his hand there makes it easier for Brendon to keep going, even when the head of Adam's dick hits the back of his throat. He slides up again before it's enough to make him gag, starts licking at the head instead.

Adam's hand starts pushing more quickly this time, guiding Brendon down again. He doesn't stop pushing right away and Brendon takes him in deeper than before. Adam touches Brendon's jaw with his other hand. He says, "Fuck. Look at you," and combs his fingers through Brendon's hair. Brendon stays down as long as he can, stays where he is until he has to pull off to take a breath.

Adam's fingers in his hair are soothing, and when they tighten that's okay too. He licks the head and goes down when Adam starts to push, and then holds still as Adam's grip on his hair tightens. His spine feels shivery.

He hasn't been taking Adam all the way in, but when Adam runs his fingers over Brendon's forehead and says, "Tilt your head back," he takes him a little deeper, a little more, almost all the way there. He leans forward, but that screws up the angle, and he chokes, pulls back up quickly and then all the way off, trying to catch his breath.

Adam says, "Hey, it's okay," and waits for Brendon to open his mouth again before he starts pushing forward. 

He says, "Like this," and takes a bigger handful of hair, pulling Brendon's head back but then holding him still. Brendon opens his mouth wider and Adam thrusts forward, slow and smooth, not pushing in all the way. He fucks into Brendon's mouth with short strokes, scratches at the back of Brendon's head when he wants him to suck harder. It's hard to swallow away the extra saliva with Adam's dick filling up his mouth, and Brendon's lips slide wet and sloppy. 

Adam loosens his hand in Brendon's hair and Brendon pulls back, leaving the head of Adam's dick resting on his tongue while he takes a few deep breaths. 

Adam's hand cups the back of Brendon's head, and he tips back, letting Adam support him. He lets his jaw drop open and Adam starts moving again. He keeps his strokes the same length, so it's not too difficult for Brendon to time his breathing. He doesn't try to inhale when Adam's pushing in. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the rhythm, the feeling of Adam's dick sliding in his mouth. When Adam relaxes his hand and Brendon lingers over the head, he can taste precome.

Adam starts pushing down again, doesn't thrust up this time. He says, "Come on, there you go, lift your jaw," helping Brendon move his head to the right angle. Brendon gets Adam's dick to the back of his mouth, and it seems like it's okay so he takes him in a little more.

"Fuck, yeah, there you go," Adam says, rubbing the tips of his fingers against Brendon's head. "Use your tongue."

Brendon doesn't know what that means. He slides his tongue forward, can't do much else like this, and somehow that opens up his throat a little more, lets him take Adam a little deeper. He can feel Adam's dick along the whole length of his tongue. Adam's breath catches in his throat, and Brendon tries to move his tongue again, just a tiny forward motion. 

Adam softens his fingers and Brendon's slides up, faster moving up than getting down. He takes a quick breath then opens his mouth wide again. He starts sinking down before Adam begins pushing, but Adam's fingers tighten shortly after, slowing him down. He keeps the same pressure, even once Brendon's all the way back down, keeps Brendon in place. Brendon's got both hands on Adam's legs: one high on his thigh and the other curled up above his knee. He can feel his fingers tightening, not to push Adam away, just so he has something to hold onto.

Brendon takes longer to catch his breath this time. He can feel Adam's hand moving the whole time, but Adam doesn't try to push him down, just touches. He licks precome off the head of Adam's dick. 

Adam says, "Use your hand," and it takes Brendon a minute to figure out what that means. He lets go of Adam's leg and wraps his hand around Adam's dick, and Adam says, "With your mouth." He pets his fingers through Brendon's hair but leaves his hand still, just a gentle weight on the back of Brendon's head, when Brendon starts moving. 

Brendon's mouth slides wetly and soon his hand does as well. He listens to the slick noises of his hand slipping over Adam's dick, the rough sounds of Adam breathing.

"A little tighter," Adam says. Brendon grips a little harder with the circle of his fingers, tries to increase the suction of his mouth. He's not at the best angle anymore, but it's easier to move with his head like this so he takes Adam in just to the back of his mouth and uses his hand on the rest.

After the first time he tries twisting his wrist as he slides up, Adam's hand jerks, tugging his hair sharply. Brendon can feel his shoulders tighten, pulling together. He leaves his eyes closed.

"Keep doing that," Adam says, so Brendon does it again, tries to keep up the same rhythm. Listens as Adam's breathing gets more and more uneven. 

"You're going to make me come," Adam says in this thin, high voice that makes Brendon's dick _ache_. 

He holds his breath, taking quick little gulps of air each time he pulls up. He's going to have to pull off and take a full breath soon, but he wants to wait, wants to make Adam come.

Adam's fingers tighten and it feels sharp at first but it fades quickly, or maybe it doesn't but it's good, it's a good kind of sharp, and then Adam's hips jerk forward, the roughest he's been all night. He thrusts forward a handful of times, hard and quick, yanks on Brendon's hair and Brendon's chest hurts with how turned on he is. He holds his breath while Adam comes in his mouth and it tastes sharp and Brendon leaves his mouth open and feels it fill his mouth. Adam pulls back a little and Brendon's swallows. 

He swallows again, Adam's hand tight in his hair but not pulling anymore, and then Adam pulls out entirely. His hand is still in Brendon's hair, but he slides down until he's on the floor in front of Brendon, and when he guides Brendon's head back, it's so that their lips can meet. Adam pushes his tongue into Brendon's mouth, scratches on the back of Brendon's head in encouragement until Brendon eases his tongue forward. He slides his tongue into Adam's mouth and Adam sucks gently.

Brendon sags forward, his thighs shaking from being on his knees for so long and from how tightly he is wound. His hands folded automatically into his lap when Adam dropped down, and he feels his fingers twitch. He presses his palm to his dick, rocking the heel of his hand for friction. 

Adam pulls away, looking down. Brendon freezes, but it's too late to move his hand away. He watches Adam, who looks down at him for a minute before raising his head again.

"Do you want to get yourself off?" Adam asks. "Jerk yourself off while I watch?"

Brendon's fingers tighten. He realizes that his mouth is open and bites his lip, nodding. He moves his hand again, rocking his hand down.

"Push your jeans down," Adam says. "Let me see you."

Brendon tries to exhale slowly, but it still sounds loud and shaky. He fumbles with the button of his jeans, lifting up to push them off his hips then sinking back onto his heels. He hisses when he wraps his hand around his cock, no fabric in the way this time. It almost feels like too much already, after being so hard for so long. He lets his head fall forward, eyes focused on a spot on the ground in front of him but not really seeing anything.

"Give me your hand," Adam says.

Brendon lets go of his dick right away, lifting his hand in front of him. Adam circles his fingers around Brendon's wrist and tilts it until Brendon's palm is facing up. He bends forward and licks over Brendon's palm, sucks each of his fingers into his mouth, one after another and then lets go. 

Brendon hunches forward, his hand flying back to his dick. It slides easily now, feels even better. He's making these stupid hoarse noises each time he flicks his thumb over the head but that somehow still doesn't seem like reason enough to stop doing it.

Adam shifts, but Brendon keeps looking at the floor. He jerks himself faster. 

"Say something," Adam says.

Brendon swallows, bites down on the inside of his cheek before asking, "What should I say?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Brendon swallows again. He says, "My mouth feels raw. I can--" He exhales sharply. "I can still taste your come."

Adam reaches forward, touches two of his fingers to Brendon's mouth. He brushes the tips of his fingers over Brendon's cheekbone and says, "I want to see your face."

Brendon squeezes his eyes closed, his breath freezing in his chest. He strokes his hand up his dick one more time before he forces his eyes open, lifts his head. He looks at Adam and feels his mouth fall open, his breath rushing in loudly.

Adam asks, "Are you going to come now?" and Brendon nods quickly, jerking his head up and down as his hand flies over his dick, and then he comes and he can't keep his head up any longer. He curls in on himself and shakes.

Adam wraps his arm around Brendon's shoulders and pulls him to his feet. Brendon doesn't think that he can stand up quite yet, but Adam's there to help him and they make it over to the bed.

His leg buckle a little and he's glad when he can throw himself onto the mattress.

"Take off your pants," Adam says. "I'll give you a massage."

"A leg massage?" Brendon asks, his voice thick and slow. He moves to take off his pants even though it takes a while to manage it with his clumsy fingers.

"Sure," Adam says. He walks around to the other side of the bed and grabs a bottle out of the drawer. "I've got oil and everything." 

He passes the bottle to Brendon, to flicks the cap open and lifts it to his face to sniff while Adam strips off his own clothes.

Adam climbs back onto the bed and Brendon passes the bottle back.

"Smells good," Brendon says. "Kind of like--"

"Coconut," Adam fills in. "One of my friends is a massage therapist so I've got the good stuff," he says, wigging his eyebrows. 

He drips oil onto his palm and rubs his hands together before settling in between Brendon's legs. He slides his hands up Brendon's thighs, spreading the oil before he actually starts rubbing. His thumbs dig in, and it's just enough, just right. Brendon lifts his arm, covering his eyes with his forearm and tries not to groan out loud.

"How are you so good at this?" Brendon rasps.

Adam laughs fondly. "My friend's a massage therapist," he repeats. "I got her to teach me a few tricks."

Brendon tries to think of something else to say but Adam's thumbs hit the thick muscle that runs down from Brendon's groin, and he just ends up hissing loudly.

"Are you getting hard again?" Adam asks, some time later.

"No," Brendon says immediately. "Shh. Just don't look."

Brendon feels Adam's hands leave his skin and he cracks one eye open. Adam's reaching for the bottle of oil again.

"Alternatively," Adam says, and this time he reaches for Brendon's dick, wrapping his slick fingers around Brendon's erection.

"Oh," Brendon says softly, arching his hips forward. "Yeah, okay. Maybe that instead."

\--

*

\--

Brendon wakes. He holds himself perfectly still and slowly squints one eye open until he can see Adam, whose own eyes are already open. Adam's lying on his side, facing Brendon. He grins when Brendon blinks at him and says softly, "Morning."

"Hey," Brendon says, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. "When did you wake up?"

"Just now," Adam says. "A car alarm went off; that's probably what woke you too."

"'kay," Brendon says. He rubs at his cheek then reaches for Adam. Adam slides over, wrapping his arm around Brendon's waist. Brendon arches his back and kicks his feet, trying to shake away the tangle of blankets. "'t time's it?" he asks.

Adam lifts himself up and looks over Brendon's body at the bedside table. "After ten," he says.

Brendon makes an unhappy noise.

"We can go back to sleep," Adam says.

Brendon closes his eyes, inhales deeply before squirming around. He lifts his leg and rests his knee on top of Adam's hip, and Adam's hand slides around to cup the curve of Brendon's ass. Their faces are close together on the pillow, and Brendon purses his lips, moves his head forward and pecks Adam on the mouth with closed lips. Adam's hand strokes over Brendon's hip.

"Let's take a shower together," Brendon says.

Adam says, "Okay," pats Brendon on the hip and waits until Brendon moves his leg away to start rolling off the bed.

\--

Brendon's hair has dried by the time he gets back home.

Shane yells, "Hey," and then Brendon can hear the backdoor open and close as Shane lets the dogs back in.

"Hey," Brendon calls.

"Did you have a good night?" Shane asks.

"Yup," Brendon says.

"When am I going to get to meet this girl?"

"I dunno," Brendon says. "I'm going to make coffee, you want any?"

"I think there's still some left in the pot I made this morning," Shane says. "You can finish what's in there if you want."

Brendon walks into the kitchen and grabs a mug out of the cupboard. He fills it with coffee, puts it into the microwave and leans against the counter while he waits for it to heat up. He wonders if Shane is going to come into the kitchen, wonders what he would say to Shane if he did. He wonders if he's going to see Adam tonight, and ends up ducking his head as he grins to himself. He feels like a dope, standing in the kitchen and rubbing the back of his neck, but he's happy and he's tired.

The microwave beeps and Brendon takes the mug out. Shane doesn't come in, so Brendon takes the cup with him into the living room and curls up on the couch. The remote control is within reach, but he doesn't turn the TV on, just sits quietly and thinks.

\--

Zack calls later that afternoon and says, "You remember about the interview you're doing tomorrow? A car will come to pick you up at six am."

Brendon groans. "Get Ryan and Spencer to do it. Spence isn't leaving until later in the afternoon."

"They'll be in the car when it comes to get you," Zack says.

Brendon calls Adam once he gets off the phone with Zack and says sadly, "I've got to do press tomorrow morning."

"Poor baby," Adam says. "I'm doing a TV spot tonight so I wouldn't be able to get together until late, but you're going to need to sleep, right?"

"Well, not necessarily," Brendon says.

"Sleep," Adam says. "Promote your CD. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Brendon says. "That would be good. I'll nap in the afternoon so I'll be better company."

"When are you going to head over?" Adam asks.

"I could call you when I wake up?" Brendon suggests.

"Sounds good. I'll talk to you then."

"Hey," Brendon says before hanging up the phone. "I had fun last night."

He thinks that he can tell that Adam is smiling from the sound of Adam's voice when he says, "Yeah, me too."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Brendon says.

\--

*

\--

Brendon runs his fingers through his hair, but it's mostly just shapeless and fluffy right now. He should probably try and cut it sometime soon.

"I'm going out," Brendon tells Shane when he walks into the living room to grab his phone, sitting on the coffee table where he left it after calling Adam.

"Where are you going?" Shane asks. Dylan's tiny head is resting on Shane's thigh.

"I dunno," Brendon says. "I'm going to meet Adam and then we're going to decide."

"Adam?" 

"Adam Lambert," Brendon says, his voice rising higher at the end.

"You're friends with the dude from American Idol?" Shane asks. "Crazy! Regan really liked him this season. How long have you been friends for?"

Brendon opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Adam's gay," he finally says.

"Um, yeah, I know," Shane says. "I'm pretty sure that all of America is aware of that."

"So, I mean." Brendon clears his throat, flipping his phone in his hands. He looks down at the shiny metal and says, "So, that's where I've been spending the night lately."

"I thought you'd started dating someone," Shane says.

"I have started dating someone," Brendon says. He taps his thumb on the edge of his phone.

" _Oh_ ," Shane says. "Wait, what? Seriously?" 

"Yup," Brendon says.

"You're dating the American Idol dude?" Shane asks.

"Yes."

"I've seen pictures of him in a dress," Shane says. "Is he like--"

"No," Brendon says, cutting him off. "No, he's a dude."

"Whoa," Shane says. "I was totally not expecting that."

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Well."

"What's it like dating a guy?" Shane asks. "Is it any different?"

"Um, yeah, yeah, it's different," Brendon says. "If it were exactly the same then there wouldn't be any reason... not to date girls, I don't know."

"Do you get to have sex anytime you want to?" Shane asks. "That would be pretty cool."

Brendon smiles, his lips pressed tightly together.

"I could maybe date a guy if it meant that I could have sex all the time," Shane ponders.

"You could date a guy if you were gay," Brendon says. "Which you're not, so that's kind of a moot point." His throat feels tight and it makes his voice come out thin and higher than usual.

"Are _you_ gay?" Shane asks, looking up at Brendon.

"I don't know," Brendon says. "I don't know if I'll, like, date girls again sometime or what, but I'm kind of-- with a guy, currently, so that's-- where I'm at right now."

"Well, you never know," Shane says. "It's not a big deal."

Brendon nods automatically before stopping himself. He says, "It sort of feels like a big deal."

"No, I just mean-- you're still Brendon, it's not like some big thing. You're still my buddy."

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Okay, good. I'm just saying, it's been kind of-- different, and so. I wanted to tell you, and then maybe sometime I could bring him over and we could all hang out a bit or something."

"Dude, definitely," Shane says. "Bring him over. It's totally cool."

Brendon nods, grins awkwardly when Shane comes over and gives him a half-hug, wrapping his arm around Brendon's shoulders.

"You going to tell your band?" he asks.

"I guess... eventually," Brendon says. "I'm not really-- I mean, I was ready to tell you, and then sometime I'll tell them, and then I guess, I don't know. My family. I'm not even ready to think about telling my family yet." 

Which is literally true; every time something comes up that reminds him of his family, the only thing that goes through Brendon's head is, _I don't even want to think about telling them_. But. Maybe one day.

"I'll tell the guys sometime," Brendon says.

"You know they won't care," Shane says.

"I know," Brendon says. "It's not even that." He shrugs.

"Well, I'm just saying," Shane says. "You don't have to worry or anything."

Brendon nods. "Anyway, I've got to get going."

"Cool," Shane says. "So. Have fun with your boyfriend." He lifts one shoulder when Brendon raises his eyebrows. "I'm getting used to it," Shane says.

"Me, too," Brendon says, scratching at his forehead. 

\--

"I came out to my roommate today," Brendon says. He's sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, and Adam's stretching out, lying with his head against Brendon's thigh. He looks up at Brendon, his head twisting backwards. 

"Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "It was good. He's a cool guy. I wasn't really-- I wasn't that worried." He touches his fingers to Adam's forehead, tracing the line of his eyebrow gently. Adam's forehead is wrinkled as he looks upward, but his face relaxes under Brendon's fingers.

"Is he the first person you've told?" Adam says.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Is that-- okay? I'm not trying to, I mean, I'm just, it's just."

"Yeah, of course," Adam says, patting Brendon's elbow with his hand. "No one knew before?"

"It never came up," Brendon says. Adam doesn't say anything and Brendon moves his hand away. He says, "That was a stupid thing to say."

"No, I don't know. I've been out since before your balls dropped," Adam says.

Brendon snorts.

"So you can tell people or not but I'm-- out," Adam says. "Period."

"I know," Brendon says quickly. "And it was good, telling him was good." He flattens his hand across Adam's chest. "I like how you are."

Adam lifts his chin and Brendon folds in half until he can reach, kissing Adam quickly.

"You want to hang out here tonight?" Brendon asks. "Go somewhere?"

"Lets go out for a drink and a dance," Adam says. "But you're going to have to not get drunk, I'm sorry. I have plans for you for later." He sits up, rising to his feet and offering Brendon a hand.

"Deal," Brendon says.

\--

They run into people Adam knows at the club -- Brendon gets the impression that they would have run into someone Adam knew no matter where they went -- but Adam just chats briefly before pulling Brendon onto the dance floor. They haven't gotten a drink yet, but Adam's a good dancer, and Brendon's probably better off following his lead than getting drunk anyway.

Adam circles Brendon's hips with his hands and drags him in closer, slides his leg in between Brendon's thighs. Adam rolls his hips and wiggles his eyebrows, and it's lewd and it's hilarious. Brendon laughs into Adam's collarbone and goes hard against his thigh.

A couple of songs in and Brendon's sweating, shaking his hair. Adam pushes at Brendon's hip until Brendon turns around and then he tucks the fingers of one hand just under the waistband of Brendon's jeans and flattens his other hand to Brendon's belly, holding him close. He bends his knees and rocks his hips against Brendon's ass. Brendon leans backward until his head touches Adam's shoulder.

Adam ducks his head, presses a kiss to the line of Brendon's neck, and Brendon tilts to make more room. He can hear Adam breathing, feel their bodies pressed close together. He wants to push Adam's hand the rest of the way down his pants. He wants to not be wearing clothes. 

Brendon turns back around and reaches up, curling his fingers around the back of Adam's neck and pulling him down. "Does this count as having a dance?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Adam says, laughing breathlessly. "You want to go get a drink now?"

"I was thinking maybe we could go back to your place instead," Brendon says.

Adam rocks forward, this purposeful roll of his hips that slides their erections together.

"Yeah," Adam says. "We can do that."

\--

Brendon holds Adam's hand the whole cab ride back, sliding across the back seat and lifting his nearest leg to drape it over Adam's, their knees crossing. Adam traces designs over the back of Brendon's hand, his painted fingernails sliding over Brendon's skin.

They get back to Adam's house and Brendon grabs onto Adam's hips, pushing from behind and steering Adam to the bedroom.

He aims Adam for the bed, and Adam turns around, sitting back on the mattress. Brendon lifts his leg, nudging at Adam's knee with his own until Adam scoots further back on the bed and Brendon can climb up as well, straddling Adam with his knees on the mattress and his ass resting on Adam's thighs. Adam wraps his arms around Brendon's waist holding him in place and Brendon settles in, kisses Adam slow and wet.

He slides his mouth along Adam's jaw and, with their cheeks pressed together, says quietly, "I've never been fucked before."

Adam moves his head minutely, a tiny nod.

Brendon presses his lips to the soft skin just below Adam's earlobe, then whispers, "I want to try."

"Tonight?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," Brendon says. He kisses Adam's neck, sucks softly enough that it won't leave a mark then bites down gently, flicking his tongue out again. Adam tastes a little salty from sweat, and it makes Brendon want to put his mouth on more skin.

He raises his head. Adam opens his eyes slowly, grins at Brendon and slides his hands up Brendon's back, pulling Brendon's t-shirt as he goes. Brendon lifts his hands and Adam removes his t-shirt. There's a brief moment where Brendon can't see, and he tightens his thighs so that he doesn't lose his balance. Once Adam has thrown the t-shirt to the side, Brendon reaches down and helps Adam take off his own shirt.

He wiggles backward, steps down onto the floor, standing in front of Adam. He touches his fingers to the front of his jeans then slowly pops the button open. Adam's staring at him, and it makes Brendon's breathing catch. Adam reaches out and tugs at the waistband of Brendon's jeans, not pulling hard enough to actually move them, and looks up at Brendon. Brendon slides the zipper down, eases his jeans past the curve of his hips. 

He steadies himself of Adam's shoulder and reaches one hand then the other to push his jeans off his ankles. Stands naked in front of Adam, who leans forward and presses a kiss just above Brendon's belly button. Adam tilts his head back and Brendon runs his fingers down the side of Adam's face.

He pushes lightly at Adam's shoulders and Adam falls backward, landing flat on the bed. He lifts his hips after Brendon undoes his pants and raises one leg at a time so that Brendon can pull his pants all the way off, and then they're both naked, bare skin sliding together as they crawl onto the center of the bed. Brendon crouches over Adam, braces himself on the bed and leans down for a kiss, Adam's lips parting easily under the pressure of his mouth.

Brendon dips his head to kiss Adam's chin before sitting back. "So, I know you've got lube," he says.

Adam grins, his fingers gripping Brendon's hips tightly. "That I do."

Brendon slides onto the bed while Adam rolls over, grabs the bottle of lube, and settles back beside Brendon.

"How do you want to do this?" he asks.

Brendon tilts his head. "With-- fingers first? I don't know what--"

"Do you want to get yourself ready?" Adam asks.

Brendon reaches for the bottle but stops before he actually makes contact. He says, "Um. Or maybe you could." Adam nods, even as Brendon says, "I just don't really know--" so Brendon trails off and closes his mouth.

"Always happy to oblige," Adam says, lifting one corner of his mouth higher than the other when he smiles. 

Adam crawls in between Brendon's legs. Brendon has to spread his thighs, and then even wider yet to make room. He plants his feet on the bed and looks up at the ceiling. 

It's a surprise when Adam's slick fingers close around his dick. Brendon lifts his head and watches Adam stroke him slowly, though he lies back down when he feels Adam's other hand move lower between his legs. Adam slides his wet fingers around Brendon's hole then starts pushing forward, just a pressure, not hard enough to get inside.

"Bear down, okay?" Adam says.

Brendon plants his feet a little wider, pushes against Adam's finger and after a moment it slides inside. Brendon feels himself immediately clamp down and Adam stops pushing. Brendon takes a shaky breath, tries to relax himself. It must work, because Adam's finger starts moving forward again, only for a little while before Brendon starts tightening against it.

"Work with me, sweetheart," Adam says, jerking Brendon slowly with his other hand. He rubs his thumb under the head of Brendon's dick and Brendon's hips jerk up, Adam's finger easing a little further inside.

Brendon exhales and he tries to make himself push back while he does it. Adam's finger sliding inside feels a bit better that way. It doesn't hurt, it's just weird. It's weird and it's moving inside of him, and Brendon wants to push down hard enough to get it _out_ , but then when Adam starts easing his finger back, that feels even weirder.

"I don't know what to do," Brendon says, trying not to sound panicked.

"It's okay," Adam says, holding his finger still and moving his hand over Brendon's dick instead. "Tell me what's not working for you."

"It's-- I don't know," Brendon says. "I'm sorry."

"How about this," Adam says. "I'm going to finger you a bit while I jerk you off, and if you want to come like this, you can say so, and we can try again some other time."

"I want to do this," Brendon says.

"We can wait and see," Adam says. "So for right now, what can I do to make it feel better?"

"Just-- keep doing that," Brendon says. It's started to feel a little less weird, or talking has helped Brendon stop focusing so hard, or something. "How far inside are you?"

"Almost all the way," Adam says.

"Okay," Brendon says, feeling relieved. "That's good."

"I'm going to start sliding out," Adam warns, and then his finger begins moving back.

"Not too fast," Brendon says.

"This okay?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," Brendon says after thinking for a minute, at which time Adam is nearly all the way out.

Brendon's almost relieved when he starts pushing in again because that feels a little better. He knows to push down, and maybe he's starting to open up because it feels like Adam's finger slides in a lot easier this time. When Adam pulls his finger back, Brendon focuses on the hand on his dick instead, and that helps.

Adam pushes back inside and it's just like before except that Brendon knows what to expect and he's not as worried and maybe Adam doesn't need to go quite so slow anymore. Brendon rocks backward, trying to show Adam that it's okay, and ends up crying out softly.

"There?" Adam asks.

"I don't know," Brendon says. "Maybe."

Adam keeps doing what he's doing, and Brendon doesn't make another noise because he's not caught off guard this time. 

He says, "I think-- yeah," and moves his hips again. It's not as good as Adam's hand moving slowly over his dick, but it's-- different. Something that makes him sweat, and he says, "Adam."

"What would you like?" Adam asks.

Brendon rocks his hips and repeats, "Adam," curling his fingers into the bedsheets.

"You've gotta tell me when you're ready for more," Adam says, and he keeps doing this thing with his finger. Brendon doesn't even know how he should move, caught between both of Adam's hands.

"I'm ready," Brendon grits out.

Adam pushes his middle finger inside, and then both fingers together. It burns, but not enough that Brendon has to pay any attention to it, not with the warm feeling spreading down his thighs, the way his dick is starting to smear precome onto Adam's hand with each upstroke. 

"What feels best?" Adam asks.

"When it's just-- little... yeah, like that," Brendon says. He pulls his legs further back, opens wider.

Brendon closes his eyes. Adam's hand jerking Brendon's dick, and his fingers in Brendon's ass, and Brendon can't stop arching, pushing back, trying to get more. He feels his stomach muscles tighten, and has to reach down quickly, covering Adam's hand with his own.

"I don't want to come like this," he says. Adam relaxes his hand and moves it out from under Brendon's, so Brendon's left cupping his own dick. He leaves his hand where it is, not doing anything more than holding. 

The feeling of Adam's fingers is more diffused this way, but that doesn't make the shaky feeling in Brendon's thighs go away, the way he's sweating and rocking down, moving with Adam's hand. He rubs the heel of his hand up his dick and then takes his hand away.

He opens his mouth, breathes shallowly, and Adam just keeps on moving his hand, just like that.

"I want-- another finger, or I want your dick," Brendon says.

"Which one?" Adam asks.

Brendon forgets that he's supposed to answer because Adam keeps rocking his fingers, but when Adam stops he blinks and says, "Ah. I guess-- is it going to hurt if you fuck me now?"

"I don't know," Adam says, looking down as he slides his fingers deeper inside. "We can stop if it does."

Brendon licks his lips and nods.

"You want to pass me a condom?" Adam asks. He leaves his fingers inside of Brendon's ass when Brendon reaches for the box resting on the bedside table, and it's fucking weird to be moving because Adam's _fingers_ are in Brendon's _ass_ , but he manages to grab a condom, tear open the wrapper and pass it to Adam.

Adam rolls the condom on with one hand, drips lube straight onto his dick. He holds his dick with his hand and only moves the other one away, fingers sliding out of Brendon's ass, after he's line up.

He looks up at Brendon and Brendon says, "Yeah. Fuck," because it's weird not having Adam's fingers inside. He's ready for more.

Adam's dick feels huge, this blunt pressure against Brendon's hole, but he pushes back and the head slides inside with this sharp burst of sensation. Brendon clenches down, and says, "Just. A sec. Can you just wait a second?"

"Yeah," Adam says. "Tell me when you're ready."

Brendon exhales slow and shaking. His thighs ache from being pushed back this far and his ass throbs, but not so bad that he wants to tell Adam to pull out.

"Okay, just-- really slow, okay?" Brendon says.

Adam moves carefully, a smooth slide that Brendon can feel _everywhere_. He reaches for his dick, pulling himself quickly back to full hardness.

"You alright?" Adam asks, rocking in and out with tiny thrusts.

Brendon gasps then says, " _Yeah_. Will you keep--?"

"Like this?" Adam asks, pushing in a little harder, and, " _Fuck_ ," Brendon says. "Yes, that." He tugs on his dick, twists his palm over the head with quick flicks of his wrist.

Adam thrusts forward and Brendon grunts, throwing his head back. 

"Can you-- harder?" he asks. 

Adam moves faster, thrusts in deeper, and Brendon smacks his hand into the wall behind his head, just so that he feels like he has something to hold onto.

Brendon breathes out in a rush, " _Ahh_ ," and has trouble finding the air to inhale again. He tucks his fingers under his knee, trying to support his leg, but the muscles in his inner thighs are screaming.

Adam's panting, but he stops immediately when Brendon asks, "Is it okay if I, fuck, if I turn over?"

"You want to go on your hands and knees?" Adam asks.

Brendon nods. Adam slides out carefully and they sort themselves out. Brendon's careful not to knee Adam when he rolls over, pressing his palms to the mattress and spreading his knees. Adam touches his hip and Brendon arches his back, doesn't even care that he must be on display like this, his ass up in the air for Adam to see.

Adam pushes back in, careful until Brendon pushes back, and then he starts moving faster. Brendon can hear their skin slapping together loudly, Adam fucking him harder now than he was before even. Brendon starts jerking himself off while Adam fucks him, and it's all that he can think about: Adam fucking him. The way his dick feels and the sounds it's making and the pressure of Adam's hands on his hips, holding him open, pulling him back. 

He pulls on his dick and he comes and his body jerks violently. He keeps making these _noises_ while he shudders, and Adam's dick feels good while Brendon's coming, but it gets to be too much soon after. He wants to make Adam come, but he doesn't think that he's going to be able to last long enough.

He reaches back, touches Adam's hip, and Adam stops, eases himself out.

Brendon turns around quickly, helps Adam to pull the condom off while Adam reaches over and grabs a tissue, wraps the condom in it.

"You want me to suck you?" Brendon asks. "How do you want to come?"

"Just use your hand," Adam says, biting his lip when Brendon touches his dick. "I'm really close."

They're both up on their knees, and Brendon leans forward, cups Adam's balls in one hand while he jerks him with the other.

"That was so fucking hot," Brendon says.

"Yeah," Adam groans, fucking forward into Brendon's fist.

"Is this okay?" Brendon asks. "Is this what you want?"

Adam nods. He clings to Brendon's shoulder, curling forward until he can rest his forehead against Brendon's, panting harshly. He comes all over Brendon's hand and holds on tightly to Brendon the whole time. He shivers when he finally finishes, but doesn't let go.

"You were planning on changing your sheets tomorrow anyway," Brendon says, easing them both onto the bed without worrying about the mess. "Right?"

"Yeah," Adam says, immediately plastering himself to Brendon's side. "Tomorrow."

It takes them a while to find their way under the blankets. Brendon thinks that he's going to conk out right away, but Adam's so close, and he stills smells good. He smells like sex and sweat, but it's still good, and his skin is warm and soft, and he doesn't seem to mind Brendon's hands stroking over his sides, across his back. He slides his fingers through Brendon's hair and holds him close, kisses him with a closed mouth at first, but soon their tongues are sliding together.

Brendon pushes Adam's hair away from his face when they pull apart. "I'm always worried I'm going to fuck up your hair," he says.

Adam laughs and says, "I don't care." He kisses Brendon, asks, "Are you sleeping here tonight?"

"Yeah," Brendon says. "But I'm kind of hungry after-- all that. I will be much quieter in the morning if you feed me now," he says, smiling winningly at Adam.

"You totally want me to bring you food for you to eat _in my bed_ ," Adam says, shaking his head.

"It's not like we can make the sheets _worse_ ," Brendon says. He's lying in a wet spot, and he has a feeling that it's not the only one. His body aches and his ass is still all wet with lube, but he feels good, feels present in his skin.

Adam huffs, but he pulls the sheets back and gets up. Brendon lies there for a minute, grins up at the ceiling before following Adam into the kitchen. 

\--

*

\--

"Can I get you anything?" the waiter asks after refilling Brendon's water glass.

"We're still waiting for-- everyone," Brendon says. "Do you want something to drink?" he asks Adam. "We could order now if you wanted to."

"Let's wait for your friends," Adam says. "They should be here soon. We're still ten minutes early."

"Okay," Brendon says. "Um, nothing yet, thanks." 

The waiter nods.

They're seated at a round table. He and Adam are beside each other and the other four chairs are empty, but Spencer texted a couple of minutes ago and said that they were just finding parking and could he maybe keep his boyfriend amused instead of texting constantly, they'll be there as soon as possible.

Adam's hand is resting on the table, and Brendon laces their fingers together.

"You're not wearing nail polish," he notes.

Adam shrugs.

"I like your nail polish," Brendon says. "You didn't have to take it off. Are you worried about meeting them? I already told them, so there's nothing to be nervous about." He reaches for his water glass with his free hand and takes another long sip.

"It was just chipped," Adam says.

"Okay," Brendon says. "I'm just saying--"

Adam squeezes his hand. "I'm happy to meet your bandmates," he says.

"Good," Brendon says. "I'm happy, too." 

Adam rubs his thumb against Brendon's.

Brendon sneaks another glance at his watch then looks up. Across the restaurant, he thinks that he can see the guys walking toward his table.

He leans over and kisses Adam quickly on the lips, whispering, "Here we go." He stands up to wave them over, and doesn't let go of Adam's hand.


End file.
